by T. M. Cromer
“Grey, I’d like you to meet Allison Jennings. She’s a senior partner in a Jacksonville firm I’m considering going to work for. Allison, my interfering brother, Greyson.”
Gabriel rose to his feet, removed the menu from Grey’s hand, and placed it in front of Allison. “I’ll be right back. Please, take your time deciding.” He faced his brother. “Grey, may I see you in your office?”
Neither spoke until the door was shut.
“You don’t get to look down on me for trying to move on with my life, Grey. I’m doing the best I can. And I had no idea Margaret would be here tonight.”
“She lives in Seminole Woods now and visits regularly with Sammy.” Grey sat on the edge of his desk. The censure in his eyes did nothing to calm Gabriel’s rising temper. “Margie doesn’t normally drink, and she’s out there, killing her liver because you’re here with another woman, Gabe.”
“No, it’s not because of me. But even if it is, that’s on her, not me. You don’t know the whole story, and you sure as hell don’t know how hard I tried… after.” He began to pace. “You want the truth of it? She gave me my walking papers, literally, in the form of a letter the day we helped her load up the moving van. I die inside every time I have to look at the strangers on her pool deck or on her lawn or in her driveway. So do us both a favor, and stay the fuck out of it.”
“I can’t do that. Not when I see you both hurting this badly.”
Gabriel closed his eyes against the wave of pain seeing Margaret had brought. “Nothing you or I can do will change her mind, Grey. Believe me.” His voice was as raw as his nerves and hollowed-out heart. The desire to cry or rage or both rose up to the surface, but he ruthlessly tamped it down again. After all was said and done, and when he finally packed up his home for the last time, he’d allow himself a breakdown. And when the following day rolled around, he’d pick up the pieces and start fresh in his new life. But until that day came, he had to hold it together.
“I’m sorry, Gabe. Truly.” Grey surprised him with a tight hug, and Gabriel worried he might not be able to let go or he’d shatter.
“I know. Do me a favor and start watering down Margaret’s drinks. I don’t imagine she’s used to anything stronger than a glass of wine, and she doesn’t need the horrendous hangover tomorrow.”
“I can’t do that if she’s paying for drinks.”
“Tell her they’re on the house and bill my card.”
Margie had almost reached the restroom when a door in the hallway was jerked open. Not expecting to see Gabriel, she gasped as he filled up the narrow space.
He was heartbreakingly handsome. He wore a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was slightly rumpled—as if he’d run his hands through it a few times. The look made him mouthwateringly approachable and less godlike in appearance. The intensity in his eyes hadn’t diminished, but the ever-present teasing twinkle was long gone.
“Gabriel. How are you?” she asked, her voice sounding breathy and uncertain to her own ears.
“Do you want an honest answer, or do you want me to lie, Margaret?”
Her insides shriveled. “Sorry. I was making polite conversation.”
If she thought he’d been irritated a second before, it was nothing compared to the thundercloud expression he now wore. “If it’s come to that, I’d rather you didn’t bother at all, okay?”
He spun on his heel to leave.
“Gabriel.” She winced at the desperate thread in her voice, but those couldn’t be their last words.
He didn’t turn around, but he paused long enough to listen.
“You d-deserve to be happy. I n-need you to b-be.”
He didn’t respond for the longest time. “Right.”
Left alone in the hallway, she stared at his retreating back and swallowed the desire to cry. As she turned to continue her journey to the restroom, she caught sight of Grey lingering quietly in the shadow of his office.
“He’s planning on leaving.”
His words struck like a mule kick to her ribs. She gasped and pressed her fists to her chest. Grey seemed to expect an answer, but nothing she could say would change Gabriel’s mind or make things right with his family.
“He won’t tell me what happened after you returned, only that you ended things.” Grey stepped into the light of the hall. “I’ve never seen him so broken, Margie.”
“I can’t fix him, Grey. I can’t even fix myself.” She hiccuped a sob. “I wish I could. I’m sorry.”
He opened his arms, and she hesitated only a second because she could use the unassuming comfort offered by a friend. As if he understood her new claustrophobic feeling while being held, he kept his arms loose and gently stroked her shoulder.
“He wants me to water down your drinks so you don’t have a hangover tomorrow,” he confessed.
She snorted at the dryness in his tone. “Same old Gabriel, always feeling compelled to control a situation.”
“Doesn’t he just?”
“Thank you for not hating me, Grey,” she whispered.
“None of us do, babe. Not even Gabe. We know you went through hell. It’s harder to understand why you pushed him away, though.”
“Maybe someday I’ll find it easier to talk about and I’ll explain, but I need more time.”
“You don’t have to share your secrets with me. I’m sure you’ve had enough people pry.”
Pulling back, she looked up into his kind steel-blue eyes. “Thank you.”
“Go on, or Sammy’s going to think you fell in.”
Her first real laugh of the night bubbled up. It felt good to share a light moment with someone. “Okay, but fair warning. Don’t you dare water down my drinks. I have no kids tomorrow, and I intend to make the most of it.”
“You got it. I’ll also give you a sure-fire hangover recipe.” His grin was an exact replica of Gabriel’s, and her heart stuttered.
“Much appreciated.”
Five minutes later, she joined Sammy and was happy to see their food had arrived. For the first time in forever, she felt a stirring of hunger.
“You’ve been crying.”
Margie grimaced. “Only a little.”
“Over Gabriel?”
“Only a little,” she repeated.
“So what caused the majority of your tears?” Sammy looked up from shifting her food around her plate so it didn’t touch.
“My feelings of inadequacy and knowing I hurt Gabriel as badly as I did.”
Sammy reached for her hand across the table. When they connected, her sister’s eyes went blank and she was mentally transported to another time and place. A minute later, she shook free of her trance. “Sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Sammy. I’m sure you don’t always have control over your gift.”
“I mostly do. I’m getting stronger since my time in Brookhaven.” She shrugged and popped a fry in her mouth.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Margie never felt she had the right to ask before now. For the most part, she was a horrid big sister. “I’m here for you.”
“Oh, sissy. You’re still dealing with your own problems. You don’t need to pile mine on top. Besides, after eight months in the mental pokey, I’m talked out.”
Margie giggled. “‘The mental pokey’? Does Stephen know you refer to his hospital that way?”
“You’d be surprised what I torture him with.”
The sisters shared a laugh, and years fell off Margie’s shoulders. She deconstructed her burger, added condiments, and put it together the way it should be. From the corner of her eye, she saw Grey frown when Sammy did the same.
Trying hard not to smirk, Margie gave a subtle nod in his direction. “I think we are seriously offending Grey by doctoring our burgers.”
Her sister held hers up, made eye contact with him, and took a large bite. Margie snorted. Only Sammy could get away with such cheekiness.
“Will you tell me what you saw?”
Sammy set down her burger and wiped her hands, a mirrored image of Margie’s own movements. “I had an image of you and Gabriel, happy together. You were hiking with the kids and laughing at something he said. At one point, he pulled you behind a tree to lay one on you.” She gave her a stern look. “I’m not sure why you gave up a man who steals scorching-hot kisses like that. Seems like he knows the business end of making love.”
Margie choked on her margarita. The coughing lasted forever, and when she could draw a breath without fire coating her throat, she threw a fry at Sammy’s head. “You almost killed me.” She was about to take another bite of her burger when her sister’s words registered. “Wait. Hiking? Are you sure? Where?”
“I don’t know where you’ve gone in the past. You would know better than me. All the trees and trails look the same.”
Her body went cold, and she dropped her food on her plate. “But it was definitely a walk through the woods?”
“Sissy? What’s wrong?”
“Gabriel and I have never been hiking. Not ever.”
The import of the moment sunk in, and they shared a wide-eyed look. Sammy’s vision hadn’t been of the past, but of a future event.
Her sister took a sip of her drink, and her eyes zeroed in on Gabriel across the room. “I touched his arm when we arrived tonight. I saw him in a tuxedo about to get married.”
The urge to vomit struck Margie. “Oh, God!”
“I didn’t mention it, because I didn’t want to hurt you. But what if it’s your wedding? To him? To Gabriel?” Sammy sounded as stunned as Margie felt.
“What if?” danced about in her brain, and she found Gabriel’s reflection in the bar mirror. He happened to glance up, and their gazes connected in the glass.
Coward that she was, she broke eye contact. “You’re wrong,” she croaked.
“I’m sorry, Margie.” Sammy’s softly spoken words shredded her.
“It’s okay. But can we change the subject now? Please?”
Chapter 34
Margie lurched from the back of the Uber with slurred instructions for the driver to wait. The blueberry-colored house with the white trim and the cheery yellow door, loomed large in the dark. Not a single light shone from any of the windows, and she felt like a damned fool.
What if Gabriel wasn’t home? What if he’d decided to take the sexy blonde woman up on her come-fuck-me eyes? Despite what Grey had told her about Allison Jennings only being with Gabriel for a business meeting, the woman was seriously into him. What was to stop him from taking her up on her blatant flirting? Nothing.
Sick to her stomach—unsure if it was the booze or her nerves—Margie wondered, not for the first time, if her sister was wrong.
She scolded herself for her foolishness and bent to scoop up a handful of pebbles from Gabriel’s flower bed. After weaving her way around the back of the house, she stopped shy of carrying through on her ill-conceived plan. Agonizing over images of him and Allison wrapped around each other in the bed he’d shared with her.
How long Margie stared at his darkened bedroom window, she didn’t know. It felt like forever for her to work up her nerve. The pebbles began to feel like lead weights in her hand, and with a silent prayer that she was doing the right thing, she chucked one.
The clink of stone on glass was louder than she expected, and she pivoted her head back and forth to make sure she hadn’t woken the neighbors. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she put her hand on the stucco wall to prevent falling over. With grim determination, she lifted her arm to throw another.
All the rocks from her hand slapped the window at once, and Margie gasped her horror as the noise ricocheted off the walls and filled the space between the houses.
The brightness of the floodlights froze her in place. Were they sensored, or had Gabriel woken at the sound of the rocks hitting his window? When nothing more happened, she bent to retrieve another pebble and tossed it.
Again, silence.
She swore under her breath and frowned her irritation.
Gabriel didn’t sleep that heavily. He probably knew she was here and was purposely ignoring her.
In the distance, Margie heard a car start up.
She staggered around the corner in time to see the Uber drive away.
Her purse was in the car!
Taking three steps after the retreating taillights, she decided she’d never catch him and cursed her suck-ass luck.
“Goddammit!”
As she turned back, a large shadow detached itself from the side of the house. She reacted with a bloodcurdling scream, and lights in the neighboring house came on.
“One of us is going to be in jail before the night is up if you keep up this racket, Margaret,” Gabriel said dryly.
Putting her hand to her racing heart, she bent over and sucked in air. Her pleasant buzz was officially a thing of the past.
“Jesus, Gabriel. You gave me a heart attack.”
He held out her purse. “I thought you might need this.”
“You sent him away?”
“I figured you were here for a reason. If you want to leave, I can drive you or call another car.”
“Right.” She stared at her bag as if it were a snake ready to strike.
“You can message him to come back,” he said softly.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her gaze to meet his. The gentle understanding gutted her. Even now, he was trying to give her what she needed. “No. I came to break you out. It occurred to me you might be lonely.”
He grinned.
Margie’s heart was instantly lighter. It thrilled her to see the twinkle return to his eyes.
“Did you now?”
She gave a jerky nod. “I’ve been so self-absorbed, Gabriel. I don’t want to do this without you.”
“This?”
“The future.”
He remained silent.
Drawing her courage from somewhere around her big toe, she asked, “Will you forgive me for shutting you out?”
“Of course he forgives you. Now will you two suck face and make up so the rest of us can get some damned sleep?” Gordon’s grumpy voice, coming from the other side of the screen, sent Margie careening into Gabriel’s embrace from sheer fright. How she never heard the window open was beyond her.
“You’re way too jumpy, love,” Gabriel murmured next to her ear, with a light rub of his palms on her shoulders.
“You knew he was there, didn’t you?” she said in disgust, giving his chest a light smack.
“We were up, having a beer. I just turned the lights off when we heard the car pull up.” He gave a small shrug. “I’ve been out here the whole time you were trying to decide whether to throw those rocks. The floodlights must’ve been my brother’s warped sense of humor.”
“Pebbles,” she corrected. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
All amusement abandoned his face. “You had an important decision to make.”
She caressed his jaw, running her index finger along his lower lip. “I made it.” When he didn’t say anything but continued to stare, her nerves got the better of her. “Am I too late?”
“No, I’m waiting for you to take Gordie’s suggestion to suck face. I thought I’d let you take the lead.”
“Who says ‘suck face’ anymore?” She laughed even as tears of relief burned her eyes.
Rising up on tiptoes, she planted her mouth on his. When their lips connected and when he didn’t press for more than this light contact, she sighed. The simple, clinging touch was like coming home. The faint taste of beer and love greeted her, and she smiled. She’d been wrong to think Don had ruined what she could have with Gabriel.
She drew back and met his burning silver gaze. “I love you.”
“Thank God!” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words again.” His voice was raspy and packed with pain. “I love you, too, Margaret. More than I can ever say.”
When he lifted his lids again
, he touched his nose to hers and clasped her hand to lead her to the front porch. He sat down in one of the Adirondack chairs and eased her into his lap, again, careful of her reaction.
“From the beginning, one of my biggest fears was this life ending in disaster like all the others,” she told him in a low voice. “When I was chain—uh, being held prisoner, my fear was confirmed. I thought I was going to die, Gabriel.”
His arms spasmed, but he remained quiet.
“Then Don systematically destroyed every memory I had of us. There was no hope. Nothing to cling to as I tried to keep my mind intact all those long months.” She felt his shuddering breath and paused to give him a chance to process. “I didn’t know how to deal with all those tainted memories. To bridge the gap between what happened and the future.”
“But now you can? What changed?”
His question was legitimate. She’d have asked the same.
“Stephen helped. Mostly.” Embarrassment snaked through her. Her therapy would be ongoing for a long while, because as much as she needed to, she wasn’t ready to discuss everything. “Also, Sammy. Tonight at the bar, she had a vision of us together. More than one, actually.”
He stiffened.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You didn’t come here on your own? You came because Sammy prodded you?”
“No! No, Gabriel, it wasn’t like that.” But maybe it was a little. “She told me what she saw and encouraged me to speak to you. But this? Coming here tonight, this was my idea.”
“Is this choice one you’re going to regret in the morning when you’re completely sober?”
“I’m not some twenty-something girl who’s drunk-texting an ex,” she snapped. “And if I wasn’t sober when I got here, the fright I got from both you and your brother did the trick.”
The tension eased from his body, and he drew her to settle against his chest. “Sorry, love. The idea of you doing an about-face in the morning freaked me out.”
